


Building Tension Chapter 1

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: Angel - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Self Love</b></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Self Love**

**Self Love**

 **By Shakespeare's Girl**

 **A/N: For the Challenge (How many is this now?) Human AU, back in high school again, off of the "Best Friends" story line.**

Spike glanced down and realized that he was hard. Which was not an uncommon thing, him being a teenage boy and all. But this time he'd been thinking not about the cute but annoying as hell girl who'd blamed him for breaking Mrs. VanAllen's window in fourth grade, but his best friend. He'd been thinking about Liam.

Spike shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid attracting undue attention from his mother and sister.

"Anything wrong, William?" his mother asked.

"Hmm? Oh, uh . . . yes." Spike thought back to what his mother had asked, and winced. "I mean _no_ , I just-um-IalreadyateandIgottagobye!"

His exit was anything but graceful, but he did get away from the table without any further questions. He slammed his door-something that was unavoidable since the house was old and the door stuck-and leaned back against it. His eyes closed and he pulled up the image he had in his mind of Buffy, but nothing happened. "Damn," Spike muttered.

Next he tried Drusilla, a girl a grade ahead of him and Liam, but strange enough that everyone thought she was still a freshman. Still nothing, despite her mesmerizing blue eyes and often low-cut dresses. "Damn!" Spike whimpered.

He let his mind drift where it wanted, one hand hovering over his crotch, the other raking through his hair. Immediately his mind conjured up Liam, the brown eyes and the big smile, the always friendly attitude-except when he went through one of his "blue periods" when he was moody and his eyes got that far away look, staring into the middle distance. It was sexy.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Spike hissed, running the heel of his hand down his suddenly perky erection. Liam had never been sexy before. Spike groaned, unzipping his pants and shoving them down around his knees.

Liam. All sunshine and lemonade and dark chocolate. Liam. His best friend. Liam, who was gorgeous and muscular and who had never shown the slightest interest in Spike although he had dated that kid Xander for a while. Liam, with the hands of an artist, and the good looks of the subject of a Renaissance painting. Liam, who looked like an angel.

Spike was panting now, fisting himself in one hand and clutching at his door knob with the other. "Angel-Liam-angel-God! Oh, god-" Spike shoved his hand into his mouth to muffle his scream as he came. When he pulled it away he'd left teeth marks in his skin.

He stumbled to the bed, kicking off his jeans and pulling on a worn out pair of sweats. When he flopped down, he realized he was crying.


	2. Building Tension Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Supple**

**Supple**

 **By Shakespeare's Girl**

 **A/N: For the Challenge. Gratuitous use of leather as a sexual metaphor. Yum. Best Friends verse, although not in any sort of continuous way.**

He fingered the coat on the rack, feeling the way it moved under his fingers, the way the leather felt warm and alive. Liam liked it, liked the way it felt, the way it smelled. He liked the way it reminded him of Spike.

Spike wore a similar coat, one he'd found in his attic a few years after he moved in. Spike's was longer, what most people thought of when they heard the word "duster." This one was shorter than Spike's, newer, even though this was a second-hand shop. It was broken in just enough that it looked comfortable. Liam kept getting drawn back to it, even though he wasn't here to find a coat. Shoes were the order of the day. He forced himself to concentrate and found a cheap pair of black work boots. If he bought these, he'd still have just enough to get that coat if he wanted.

He drifted back to it, boots in hand. It was a gorgeous coat, just the right leather-black, and a style that he'd bought numerous times before, a flattering cut for his body. But this coat was different. This one was . . . alive, almost. It had personality. A little "look at me" a little "back off."

"You can try it on if you want," a store clerk offered.

"Yeah, thanks," Liam nodded, setting down the boots and taking the coat off the hanger. He slipped it on, and it felt like he'd found a long-lost friend, or come home to his lover. The leather hugged and flowed and shaped to his body. He moved around to find something wrong with it.

There was nothing wrong. The coat moved with him, lithe and supple, stretching just enough to be comfortable while holding it's shape.

Supple and yielding and firm. Pleasant to the touch. Soft and silky-buttery smooth. All of which reminded him of Spike.

"It looks good on you," the clerk commented, smiling. "You should definitely get it."

"Yeah, you're right," Liam agreed.

Liam wore the coat home, it's fit like having someone's arms around him-Spike's arms.

"Nice coat," Spike said when he saw it the next day.

"Yes," Liam agreed. "It really is."


	3. Building Tension Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Oil**

  
**Oil**   


**By Shakespeare's Girl**

 **A/N: For the Challenge. In the BestFriendsVerse.**

Liam sighed, watching Spike as he tuned up Lindsey McDonald's ancient Ford truck. Or, he tried to. There were parts everywhere and Spike was cursing under his breath as he banged away. Finally Spike gave up, tossing a ratchet across the garage and swearing at whatever part he'd been trying to fix. "Bloody filthy blimey . . . bastard."

"You must have been paying attention in English today," Liam teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Spike grumbled, stalking right up to Liam and reaching around behind him to grab a rag to wipe his hands on.

Liam grinned, letting his eyes roam over Spike's face. "Devastating comeback," he smirked. "I'll never recover." He frowned suddenly, noticing a smear of oil. "Oh," he murmured. "You're smudged." He reached out and rested his thumb on the spot, just over Spike's scarred eyebrow, his fingers curling up into Spike's hair. Gently he rubbed away the stain, then let his fingers trace down Spike's cheek.

Spike stared at Liam. "What was that?"

"Grease smudge," Liam answered, his heart beating a little fast at having actually touched Spike, remembering just in time to show Spike the grease on his thumb before wiping it away.

"Oh," Spike nodded, sounding a little dazed. "Right."


	4. Building Tension Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Heart**

**Heart**

 **By Shakespeare's Girl**

 **A/N: For the Challenge. In the BestFriendsVerse. Which is starting to become a favorite. Direct sequel to "Smudge."**

Spike slammed the door to his room shut and slid to the floor. Oh god. He'd touched him. His Liam-his _Angel_ -had touched him. His face still felt hot and tingly where Liam's fingers had trailed over his skin and rubbed away the grease.

He'd been so tender. Like more than friends. Like a lover. Like-no, damn it! No! It had just been Liam's usual care for his friends. He knew how much Spike hated being dirty, so he'd helped remove dirt. He was reading too much into the whole incident.

 _Then why is your heart racing?_ he asked himself, his eyes tearing up as he thought about it. _Why do you feel like you can fly just because he touched you, and why are you thinking about it so much if it's just nothing?_

"Oh, shit," Spike moaned. "Getting worse."

Someone knocked on the door.

Spike had to gasp for breath and choke back tears before he could answer around the lump in his throat. "Wh-who's there?"

"It's me, Spike," Liam's voice called through the door. "Is anything wrong? You ran out of the garage so fast-is it anything I did?"

"No," Spike managed on a choked laugh. "No, it's not you. It's me. It's definitely me."

There was a pause, and Spike thought maybe Liam had left. Then, "Um . . . are you breaking up with me?"

Spike did manage a laugh at that, although it came out in the middle of one of the sobs he was trying to choke back. "God, no. I just-um. Just don't feel very well."

There was another pause. "Um . . . look, if I made you uncomfortable . . . with the whole touching thing . . . I'm sorry, I just . . ."

Spike waited. _Please_ , he begged whoever was listening, _don't let him say "I just know how you hate being dirty," or that he didn't think it was a big deal._

Liam sighed, and Spike could hear it through the door. "I don't know. I guess I thought that you . . . that we . . . that there was . . ."

Cautiously Spike opened the door. "What?"

Liam was leaning with one arm against the door frame, all casual and concerned and confused. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but-have you been crying?" His brow wrinkled, his concern deepening.

"What?" Spike repeated. He touched a hand to his face, self conscious about his tears. "Oh, I-"

"Damn, Spike, I'm sorry," Liam apologized. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Without thinking he reached out a hand to brush away the tears, but Spike jerked back.

"Don't," he gasped, turning away, feeling his heart constrict painfully as he saw Liam take a step backward at the word.

"I'm sorry," Liam repeated. "I'll go?"

"Don't!" Spike repeated, frantic now. "No, don't, just-no. Don't go? Or, go, I guess, maybe you should, it's almost time for dinner, but-"

"Hey," Liam stepped closer again, concern returning and replacing the hurt that Spike had caused. "Maybe we should talk?"

"Yeah," Spike agreed. "Just . . . yeah. Maybe we should."

"Okay."

They stood awkwardly in Spike's doorway. Liam reached out to touch him again, but Spike jerked back a second time. "Please don't," he whispered. "Not unless you . . ."

"What?" It was Liam's turn to ask the questions. "Not unless I what?"

"Not unless you mean it," Spike finished, his voice catching.

"Oh," Liam sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He smiled and reached out to stroke Spike's hair. Spike flinched but didn't move away again. Warm fingers threaded through Spike's hair and cupped his skull, cradling, treasuring. Spike was breathing hard, his chest heaving as Liam leaned in. "I mean it."

Spike took a deep breath, watching in fascination as Liam twined his free hand with one of Spike's. "Are you sure?"

Liam nodded, his eyes dark and serious. "I'm sure. I was just waiting for a sign from you. I've been fighting with myself for so long . . ." He huffed out a breath and gave Spike a small smile as he leaned in closer.

Spike's heart was pounding, beating furiously against his chest, but the moment Liam kissed him, everything stopped, and Spike swore his heart did too.


End file.
